


Let the words fall out

by weepingnaiad



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A snarky family but a caring one, Alternate Universe, Clint Barton sniper, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Nick Fury Knows All, Phil Coulson & Nick Fury Friendship, Phil Coulson ex-Ranger, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the minute Nick tells Phil that Clint's coming home to stay, Phil has thought of little else other than how badly he'd screwed things up with Clint.  With puppy in tow, he hopes Clint gives him a chance to apologize and maybe give <i>them</i> another chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the words fall out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kultiras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kultiras/gifts).



> **Beta:** I seriously could not have done this without my betas. Their support is the only reason this tale is finished and their mad beta skillz made it so much better. I did fiddle after they finished so all mistakes are on me.

Phil approached the fence blocking the small receiving area from the flight line. After checking that its occupant was still dozing, he set the small carrier down, then greeted the dark haired man nearest the closed gate. "Afternoon, Sergeant."

Bucky turned and nodded. "Hey, Major."

"It's Phil now."

Bucky snorted. "Not if you don't call me Bucky."

Phil shrugged. "Didn't seem respectful here in this setting."

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asked even as his whole attention turned toward the runway where a C-12 was taxiing for take off.

"He's finally pulled his head out of his ass," a snarky baritone spoke from behind them.

Phil rolled his eyes and turned to give Nick an unimpressed glare. "I'm off the clock, Nick. Pretty sure I don't have to take your bullshit now."

Behind him, Bucky chuckled. "Pretty sure you gave up that freedom when you agreed to work for him," he muttered.

"Not you, too?" Phil said, voice betrayed as he glanced back at Bucky.

Bucky just shrugged, his expression shouting he wanted to keep the job he'd just started.

Phil gave up, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the fence. "Seriously, Nick, I got this."

"Then you won't mind some company."

Phil rubbed his forehead, sure a headache was coming on, especially now. As if he needed an audience for his groveling. _If_ he got that far. His eyes widened and his heart sunk to his shoes. "I beg to differ. I _do_ mind, especially those two," he hissed at Nick as he glimpsed Melinda and Jasper leaving the building and striding -- Melinda's pace tended toward a waddle, but Phil would never say that aloud -- toward them.

Nick glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Phil. "I didn't invite 'em," he said, one eyebrow raised. "Guess we had the same idea."

"What idea?" Jasper asked as he stepped up beside Nick.

"Keeping this one from screwing up again." Nick cocked his head at Phil. "Melinda, you're looking good. You sure you don't want your old job back?"

"Hey!" Bucky protested. "Didn't you give _me_ her job?"

"Not on your life, Nick!" Jasper answered, squawking when Melinda elbowed him in the ribs.

"I'm good, but I'll keep the offer in mind if I get fed up with this one." She gave Jasper a wicked little grin.

"I thought we agreed?" Jasper whined.

"I'm good then?" Bucky asked again, sounding unsure since he'd been ignored the first time around.

"You have nothing to worry about, Barnes," Nick said.

Phil took a breath and tried to keep calm. He was a grown man. He could deal with this. At least no one else had shown up. _'Thank god.'_

Of course that was when the door opened again, spilling out his worst nightmares: Natasha, Maria, and Skye, the three of them laughing and beelining toward him, so there was no mistaking his fate. He was doomed. Might as well grab Nick's firearm and finish himself off right now. There was no way he was getting out of this in one piece and shooting himself would be far less painful than what was sure to come.

He must have made some noise, a pained whimper, probably, because Bucky sidled close to whisper, "Want me to create a diversion so you can make a break for it?"

Phil gave Bucky a weak smile. "More than anything. But there's no need to throw yourself on your sword for me. My mess. I'll live with the consequences."

"You never did say why you were here," Bucky prodded.

Before Phil could reply, Natasha did. "He's here because he's a first-class idiot and needs to talk to Clint. The _other_ first-class idiot." She gave Bucky a wicked grin. "They're a matched set of first-class idiots. So alike and so much more stupid for it."

"Barton?" Bucky asked, only to be ignored once again.

"Yes, but it will go better without an audience," he insisted, tone peevish.

Natasha's lips twitched upward before fixing into a thin line. Phil would have missed it, but he was hyperaware of everything right now, including Bucky's frustration. "We're not here to eavesdrop. Just to--"

"Just to blockade the door and handcuff you both to the fence if you screw this up _again,_ " Maria interjected, her eyes twinkling over a wicked smirk.

"Hill," Phil greeted, trying to remember to be polite even as he felt a flush start at his ears, then head south.

"Coulson," she said. "Barnes."

"Ma'am," Bucky replied, right arm twitching as though he stopped the automatic salute.

Maria must have caught the movement because she said, "We're all civilians now, soldier, but it takes time to break the habit." She offered him a genuine smile.

"Hey, AC!" Skye piped up, stepping in close. Her smile was a sight for sore eyes, except that Phil really didn't want his personal life made public record. And, nothing against Skye, but she ran with Jemma and Darcy and the three of them were inveterate gossips. She bounced on her toes and gave him a gentle, knowing glance before tugging Natasha and Maria back toward Melinda. "While I have you here we need to talk about the baby shower…" she began, glancing over her shoulder at Phil who sagged against the fence.

"Okay, there's a story here," Bucky began. "You might as well tell me since I'm guessing everyone else already knows it."

"There's not much to tell," Phil started.

Nick snorted and leaned closer. "Like hell."

"I can tell my own story."

"Sure. You go right ahead. But don't forget the part where you're a complete dumbass."

Bucky's eyes were darting back and forth between the two of them and Phil groaned as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you rather tell it?" he asked, adding under his breath, "It's not like I _lived_ it or anything."

Bucky snorted and Phil groaned as Nick began talking, Phil's mortification only growing as Nick continued.

"It's not a long story, Barnes. Phil met a guy on leave, hooked up -- stayed in a hotel room for a week straight, if I recall -- then tried to walk away. He found out he'd left more than body fluids--"

"Nick, dammit!" Phil interrupted.

But Nick continued, undeterred. "He was a little bit obsessed with the guy, more than a casual hook up if you ask me. But since our dear Major was one repressed motherfucker at the time--"

"It was during 'don't ask, don't tell', you don't get to criticize," Phil huffed.

"As I was saying…" Nick said, voice level, but Phil could tell without turning to look that his 'best friend' was enjoying this far too much. "Phil here's a dumbass and he kind of fell in love with said hookup, but he only got the guy's first name and phone number."

Nick stopped and Phil turned to look at him, blinking that he'd stopped right there.

"So?" Bucky prompted.

"So, when this had been going on for a ridiculous amount of time… two years, wasn't it by then, Cheese?"

"Fuck you!" Phil answered, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest.

He felt Nick shrug. "Well, Major Coulson's unit got a new sniper after Ward got himself dishonorably discharged."

"Grant Ward?" Bucky asked. "Heard about that douchebag."

"Yeah. _Anyway,_ take a guess at who the new sniper was."

"Oh, hell no!" Bucky said, Phil clearly hearing the laughter in his voice.

"Hell yes! Clint Barton, Phil's not-so-casual hookup… in the flesh."

Phil moaned, opening his eyes at a gentle touch. And there was Skye looking like she felt almost sorry for him. He hadn't even heard her approach. "You're not going to join in?"

"Nah. I totally get screwing up relationships, AC," she said, voice quiet.

"So what happened? It doesn't sound too bad so far. Just kind of embarrassing," Bucky asked.

"Well, it might not have been if either of them had actually used their heads -- and I do mean the one attached at the neck -- but they didn't. Phil was--"

Phil interrupted. He didn't want anyone to think Clint was at fault. "I was an ass. Went overboard to prove that I was objective and did not show favoritism."

"In short," Natasha added, "he broke it off immediately and made it clear that they were done while citing fraternization rules, DADT policy, any regulation he could think of to use as a shield."

Phil shrunk in on himself, remembering that conversation and how fucking much it had hurt. Especially seeing the pain, then anger flare in Clint's eyes.

"Oh," Bucky said, barely heard over the hollow ache in Phil's chest.

"It went downhill from there with Clint requesting a transfer out a short time later," Natasha said, voice gentle. She nudged Phil and he looked up to meet her eyes. "But not before Phil here got himself seriously wounded."

Phil raised the prosthetic limb and waggled the fingers, just barely, and trying to smile.

Natasha continued, "And we're all here to make sure they both get a chance to fix it." She stood on tiptoes and dropped a kiss on Phil's cheek, whispering, "We're here to help, not hinder. I promise."

Phil inhaled deeply, closing his eyes before he sagged just a bit. "Thanks."

"So you're here to--" Bucky's words were drowned out by the engines of a C-17 taxiing to a stop nearby. 

Phil must have lost track of time. His heart began to race and his stomach dropped to his toes. The carrier at his feet began to wobble.

"What's that?" everyone asked.

"Who," Phil answered as he knelt down and opened up the little plush carrier to pull out the puppy. The little lady was a peace offering, a companion to help guide Clint back into civilian life, and, most of all, as meaningful a present as he could offer Clint without proposing on the spot. Phil couldn't bring Lucky back for Clint, but he could give him a new Lucky, someone who'd love Clint and not ever hurt him.

"Awwwwwww," chorused all of Phil's friends as he tucked the puppy into his arms.

"What's her name?"

"Adorable."

"How old is she?"

"Is she for Clint?"

Phil heard boots on the ground and turned, ignoring the questions for now. A half dozen soldiers with their packs were walking toward the now open gate. The group were laughing and shoving each other, Clint and Steve Rogers -- now Phil understood why Sergeant Barnes was here -- in the lead.

"Bucky!" Steve dropped his duffle and sprinted toward them, Bucky calling, "Stevie!" and moving to intercept. 

Phil couldn't help his laughter and wide smile when Steve grabbed Bucky and lifted him, turning him like they were in some old-fashioned movie with Bucky as the beautiful dame. And he _was_ beautiful, despite being a bit broken. Phil couldn't help but notice when they bonded over missing limbs and PT with a side of gleeful snark. He'd been hoping that something could fix that haunted look in Bucky's eyes, had hoped that the new job at Stark Industries working for Nick would give Bucky the sense of purpose he'd lost. But really, it seemed all he needed was Steve. Phil'd never seen Bucky smile quite like that before.

When Phil caught himself staring at what should be a private moment, he turned away from their heated lip lock straight into Clint's wide-eyed gaze.

"Coulson?" Clint said. "What the fuck?" Then he turned toward Natasha, growling, "Seriously, Nat? What in the ever lovin' hell?"

Natasha shrugged, gave him a half-smile, bouncing a bit on her toes waiting for him to leave the tarmac. "I think you need to hear him out. Now get over here and give me a hug because tall, dark and broody here won't let me come to you." The MP's cheeks reddened, but he didn't move a muscle. Natasha opened her arms and Clint strode through the gate, dropping his duffel to pick her up in his still broad arms.

Phil was content to hang back. He was in no hurry to have this conversation, so he took a step away from the crush of people and promptly ran into someone. Someone hard, tall, and wide, who pressed a large hand onto his shoulder and said, "You might as well get it over with, Cheese. Bite the bullet and all that good shit."

Rolling his eyes Phil purposefully did not turn around to glare at Nick. Still, he was stuck, nowhere to go but forward. And that meant confronting Clint.

When he still hesitated, Nick gave Phil a hard shove that sent him staggering forward. He gripped the puppy a little too tightly and it yipped at him, making Clint turn his way, cold-eyed glare drilling holes through Phil.

Phil swallowed as Clint crossed his arms over his chest. "So talk, _Major,_ " Clint said, voice steel-lined and brusque. And even with anger burnishing his features, he was still unbelievably gorgeous, from the tips of his dirty blond spiked hair along the corded sinew of his incredible arms to his changeable eyes, storm-tossed and confused.

"Didn't want an audience," Phil muttered. He held the puppy out to Clint. "But I do want you to have this little lady."

"What?" Clint asked, eyes going soft and body melting as he took the puppy and pressed her to his chest, only to get cheerful puppy licks and nips on his chin for his trouble. His smile was like the brilliant sunshine coming out from behind a thunderstorm, double rainbow included.

Phil swallowed and reached up to scratch his left ear, only pausing when the prosthetic brushed his ear. Clint frowned, eyes darting to Phil's hand before he looked away. "I don't understand," he said.

"I owe you more than an apology. When I heard about Lucky…"

Clint swallowed, then nuzzled the puppy, and weren't they perfection together?

"Well, I know she's not Lucky. She'll never replace him, but she's good company and they say that it helps… the transition is easier if you have a reason to get out of bed every day. Something better than PT." He was floundering, didn't know what he was trying to say. He licked his lips and shrugged before getting the carrier. "I have some food and a bed in my car…"

Clint scratched his head with one hand while the puppy tried to crawl onto his shoulder. "Thanks?" he said, sounding as unsure as Phil felt. "But… why?"

"Can we… not here?"

"Nat?" Clint asked, turning away from Phil only for them both to realize that they'd been left alone, the only ones of their friends that hadn't bugged out.

"Shit!" Clint swore. He glared at Phil. "Did you set this up?"

"No. I've done all I expected I'd do."

Clint's brow furrowed. "All you expected--? Can you just give it to me straight? And then tell Nat to get back here. She's my ride."

"I had nothing to do with Natasha leaving. But I can give you a lift?" At least there wouldn't be prying eyes and ears if they talked in the car. And maybe if Phil didn't have to actually meet Clint's eyes, he could say his piece.

Phil picked up the puppy's carrier and Clint's duffel and headed back toward the building and the parking lot beyond. "C'mon, Sergeant. I'll make sure you get home safely."

Clint faltered, but Phil heard him follow. He was murmuring to the puppy and that made Phil smile. Clint caught up to Phil and reached to open the door. "I got it," he said.

"Thanks," Phil said, brushing away the irritation he felt. It was irrational but he was still hypersensitive to overly solicitous actions and Clint proved to be no exception to the pricking itch at the back of his neck.

"What's her name?" Clint asked, falling into step beside Phil.

Phil glanced at Clint. "She doesn't have a name yet. She's yours so I thought you should name her."

"Oh," Clint said, voice soft. He lagged behind then and Phil slowed his steps but didn't turn around. He wasn't sure what he hoped to see on Clint's face, but he knew that the puppy wouldn't be enough to soften Clint's heart. And it really was meant to be a gift, nothing more.

His own steps faltering, Phil ground to a stop and turned. Clint was staring at him, eyes wide with confusion, puppy tucked under his chin. Phil's arms ached to pull him close.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because coming home to an empty apartment sucked. And my therapist suggested I get a pet."

"Did you?"

Phil shook his head. "I didn't transition so well. Kind of did everything backasswards. Thought maybe she'd help you get it right."

"But I'm not anything to you."

"That's not true, Clint," Phil's tone was urgent, harder than he expected and Clint flinched. "Sorry." He took a breath. "I'll try to explain in the car."

Clint glanced around his eyes shuttering. "Oh. Yeah, right."

"It's not that. I'm out of the closet," Phil said, walking toward the company sedan he'd borrowed.

"That's no red convertible."

"No. But it is practical," Phil said as he deposited everything in the trunk. "Lola's trunk barely holds a tissue box and there's no back seat. Thought you'd be more comfortable in a car with a ceiling and windows that roll up."

Phil didn't open Clint's door after unlocking them all from the fob, but it was a close thing. He wanted to be close to Clint, to touch, to reassure himself that Clint hadn't run for the hills when he laid eyes on Phil.

"Thanks," Clint said, settling into the passenger seat, puppy still tucked up close.

Phil concentrated on driving, getting them out of the parking lot, out of the airport, and off the base. The silence in the car was comfortable and neither man seemed willing to break it.

Until Phil had to. If he didn't say his piece now, he'd never get another opportunity.

But Clint broke the silence before Phil got up his nerve. "So why all this? Why the dog? This seems a little over the top and not really your style."

And there was Phil's chance, served up on a silver platter. He gripped the steering wheel, but didn't turn. "I'm not always a repressed asshole." And, oh god! Why did he open with that? Pissy and defensive wasn't the best start.

Clint just snorted. "Could have fooled me."

"Okay, I deserve that. But that's part of the reason I did this."

"And?" Clint urged when Phil didn't go on.

Phil sighed. "And I always regretted how I handled things." He shook his head, huffing out a breath. "I had so carefully cultivated the lies of my life and then you walked in and I saw it all crumbling apart. I fucked up. I know that. And-and I would like to fix it."

When Clint didn't say anything Phil risked a glance sideways, but Clint was turned away from him, was looking out the window his hands idly stroking the sleeping puppy in his arms.

"I don't expect anything," Phil hastily added to clarify. He had no idea what Clint was thinking and was pretty sure he was treading thin ice. "I know I hurt you and I was wrong on so many levels. But we were good together. And I'd like to be your friend again. If you'd be willing to give me a chance?"

Still no reply from Clint. Phil sighed. He hadn't really expected anything else. He'd hoped, but most of the time he was better off being pragmatic. "I understand. I do. I won't presume or impose on you any longer. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I drop you off."

He licked his lips and focused on driving. To cover the tense silence he reached for the stereo. Clint's hand stopped his.

"Clint?"

Clint was looking at him now, shaking his head. He hadn't let go of Phil's hand, either. "I was thinking it's hard to talk over music." He gave Phil a small smile.

"I… huh?" _'Really eloquent, Phil.'_

Clint chuckled. "Look. I get what you thought when I showed up. But I wasn't going to torpedo your career."

"I know that. That's one of the things that I really owed you a huge apology for. It seemed like I didn't trust you." He paused. "That wasn't it."

"Then what was it?" Clint looked at him and he was adorable with a befuddled expression on his face.

"I didn't trust myself. Not around you," Phil confessed. "God! You made me crazy! Everything about you. Even when I was giving the morning briefing and you were lounging at the back of the room, I could barely talk. Just kept drifting off, thinking about your arms, the way they held me. And goddamn! How in the hell was I supposed to concentrate when all I could think about was your lips wrapped around my cock? Or your dick buried in my ass? You were… are a distraction. One that I couldn't trust myself around."

Clint canted his head toward Phil. "And you couldn't have used your words? Told me all of this _then?_ "

Phil shrugged. "You terrified me. I wasn't thinking clearly. It seems I have trouble doing so around you."

"So you bought me a puppy as an apology?" Clint asked, but he was grinning. His smile made Phil's heart leap into his throat.

Phil nodded. "I remembered when Lucky died…"

Clint ducked his head. "Yeah. I never did tell you how much that visit meant to me." His voice was a bit rough and Phil frowned in empathy.

"I meant it. About wanting to be friends, Clint. I miss you. I miss our stupid clandestine Skype chats. I miss our weekends in Germany. Hell, I miss everything about you."

"So what now? Are you still in the closet?" Clint asked. It was a fair question.

Phil shook his head. "I came out to everyone in my life. I warned Nick when he offered me a job." Phil turned to meet Clint's eyes. "I was done hiding and even more done with the lies. I'm gay. And I'm not hiding it any longer. Anyone who has a problem with that can go fuck themselves."

Clint grinned. "That's pretty sexy, sir."

Phil snorted. "Not your superior officer, Barton."

"Yeah, I know. But you weren't the only one with a problem."

Phil shook his head, a bit confused, but hoping Clint would elaborate.

"Look, I know we kept things quiet, no last names, no rank, none of that. But I knew you were some big shot. You always had this way of saying things. Ordering me around…" he paused, smirked with eyes sparkling before continuing, "hot as the fuckin' sun. And then I end up assigned to your unit and there you were… all badass _and_ in full uniform." He shook his head. "Let's just say I took far too many showers."

Phil felt the tip of his ears turn pink. He risked a glance at Clint to make sure he was serious. He was staring at Phil, eyes honest and open. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

Phil turned off the highway, grateful for the distraction since the words were all jumbled up in his head. He and Clint had been ridiculously compatible in bed, their desires fit together like they were made for each other, but they'd never mentioned feelings, both careful about keeping it casual. Or at least pretending it was casual even if Phil hadn't managed 'casual' almost from the first glimpse of Clint's smile in that smoky bar in the seedy underground of Heidelberg.

He felt a touch to his arm and he glanced away from the road to see Clint's hand on his arm. "I still find you ridiculously sexy."

Phil swallowed bitter words and shook his head before turning to stare forward. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his right hand and lifted the prosthetic in its black leather glove, working to command the fingers to wiggle. "I'm not the same man--"

"Just stop that right now," Clint cut in, voice hard and forcing Phil to turn back to look at him.

"I can't say I get it. That I understand what you're going through. What you've been through. But losing your arm doesn't make you less of anything. And I needed to get that out there right now."

"You don't…"

"Yeah, I don't know. I get that. My worst problem is a bit of hearing loss thanks to my shithead dad. I am aware." Clint's tone was gentler now, more of that snark cutting through the steel. "I just don't want you to think that the loss of your hand has any impact on how I feel," he said.

"I'm not entirely sure what you're implying," Phil began and then kept going, tongue tripping over the words even as he managed to force them out. "I want to believe you're saying you forgive me for being a bastard and that you'd like another shot at being together, but I couldn't really hear above the pounding in my ears." Phil held his breath and concentrated on driving. They were almost there and he'd just put his heart on the line.

"Phil," Clint said, voice soft. "Can you look at me?" he asked. "Please?"

"I'm kind of afraid to," Phil admitted.

Clint chuckled. "You're not afraid of a damn thing."

"That's so not true."

"So what's the worst that could happen?"

"This could all be a dream. A hallucination I dreamed up when I was dying. I could be dead and living my own personal version of hell."

"Riding in a car with me is hell? Gee, thanks." Clint’s sarcasm forced a smile to Phil's lips.

"Not that part of it. The whole thing where I tell you how much you mean to me and I wake up to find that I shoved you away and this was all a fantasy. I'd be stuck reliving that moment, or the worse one, where I called it quits in my office on base… knowing my luck, that'd be my eternal torment."

"You are something else, you know that?" Clint sounded amused.

"We're here." Phil pulled up in front of Natasha's modest house, dropped the car into park and swallowed before finally turning. Clint's face wore a fond and happy expression with his chin pressed to the puppy's head.

"Idiot," Clint said. He leaned forward until the seatbelt blocked him. Rolling his eyes he swore under his breath, released the belt, then leaned forward again, kaleidoscope eyes boring into Phil.

"I--"

"Meet me in the middle here, babe. I don't want to wake up my girl."

"Ummm. Sorry?" Phil's head was spinning and he couldn't tell if it was because he'd been holding his breath or if his heart had decided to beat it's way out of his ribs.

"I think generally lovers greet one another with a kiss, don't you?" Clint smirked and leaned a little closer, lips puckering.

Phil blinked a few times, first to make sure he wasn't seeing things, and then because Clint's pucker had gone from sweet to exaggerated.

"Work with me here," he mumbled around lips still puckered and eyebrows wiggling.

Phil had to laugh. "You're crazy," he said, but he released his seatbelt and leaned forward, lips meeting Clint's. The first press was gentle, chaste, and a bit too sappy for two grown-assed military types. But then Clint pulled back just a bit, enough for Phil to see his wicked smirk and that was enough for Phil to reach out to drag him back close, careful of the puppy, as he nipped at Clint's lower lip, then dragged his mouth up Clint's jaw to whisper, "I want to fuck you in my bed, lay you out and take my time, enjoy every inch of you."

Clint groaned. "You are a fucking tease. You know I promised Nat--"

Eyes sparkling Phil said, "You promised Natasha dinner. I know. But there is plenty of time after. Unless I heard wrong when I was told you didn't re-up?"

"Natasha did _not_ tell you that."

Phil shook his head. "Nick has eyes _everywhere_."

Clint shuddered. "Please tell me you meant that metaphorically."

"For the most part," Phil said, deadpan.

"Oh, fuck you! If I'm worried about your boss spying on us, you're not getting me naked."

Phil leaned forward, dropped a kiss to the corner of Clint's mouth. "Well, I know for a fact that my bedroom is bug free."

Clint tucked the puppy over his right shoulder and wrapped an arm around Phil's shoulders to pull him closer. "Are you propositioning me, Major?"

"Damn straight, Sergeant."

"Fuuuuuck. That's hot." 

There was a tap against the passenger window. Both men's heads jerked up to see Natasha standing there, one eyebrow raised, hands on her hips.

Clint pressed his forehead against Phil's. "Can I get a raincheck?"

"Yeah, but don't make it too long."

"Is tomorrow okay?"

"Hell, yes!"

Clint slowly lifted his head, his crooked grin made Phil's heart do somersaults. Then they were kissing, this time with fervor and passion, until Natasha threw open Clint's door and reached in to grab the puppy from Clint. "There are babies present! Have you two no shame?"

"Nope!"

"Not any longer!"

"Honestly!" Natasha huffed. "Clint, get your shit. Phil," she pointed a finger at Phil, "keep it in your pants for one more day. Clint owes me, then he's all yours."

Clint grinned. "I am, aren't I?"

Phil nodded. "If you want to be."

"Hot damn!"

Clint dropped a kiss to Phil's lips, then got out of the car. Phil popped the trunk and retrieved the box for the puppy along with Clint's duffel. He set both on the sidewalk and gazed at Clint. The calm surety from the car had fled and now it was awkward again.

"Ugh. You, two!" Natasha said. "Just kiss and get it over with. I'll take Tashka here inside to save her little psyche."

"I am not naming my dog for you!" Clint shot at Natasha's retreating form and Phil had to chuckle.

"What are you naming her?" Phil asked as Clint stepped near. "You better decide soon or she'll be Tashka forever."

Phil reached out, hands drawn to Clint's hip as though magnetized. He dragged Clint the rest of the way forward until their lips met in a teasing, family-safe kiss.

They were still both a bit wide-eyed and hips shifting when the kiss ended. "I was thinking of calling her Lucy."

Phil smiled, hand pressed to Clint's cheek, completely reluctant to leave. "I should go."

"Yeah," Clint nodded, but he didn't pull away.

"I'll call."

"We can Skype later."

"Just like old times."

"Better than."

"Yeah, it is," Phil agreed, sighing when Natasha stepped back onto the porch. 

"Okay, you two are ridiculous. Barton, get your ass in here! Coulson, get lost! You'll see your boy soon enough!"

Clint and Phil ducked their heads then laughed together. "I guess I should go before she embarrasses us."

"Us?" Clint asked, one eyebrow raised.

"You know she'd find something."

"And we'd both want to dig a hole and crawl in it," Clint agreed.

"Right," Phil cleared his throat, but his right hand was still gripping Clint's hip.

"I can't leave with you hanging on."

Phil inhaled. "Of course not."

"Not that I want to!"

Phil had to kiss Clint once again. Just because he could. And because Clint was adorable and gorgeous and funny and he was smiling at Phil. How was Phil expected to resist?

So they kissed until Natasha came out and bodily dragged Clint away. "Enough is enough!" she muttered.

And Phil's smile could only be described as ear-to-ear as he drove away.

The End

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N2:** Title from _Brave_ by Sara Bareilles.  
>  **Disclaimer:** These are Marvel and Disney's characters used in the spirit of creative commons. I promise to return them with smiles on.


End file.
